“So you know Ryker,” Dad said to Parker. “Tell me, is he the right kind of man to be dating my daughter?”
“Dad—” I interrupted, mortified. He held up a hand to shush me, which really sent me over the edge. “Are you shushing me?” I hissed at him, but he shot me a look, and since I’d seen that look many times growing up, I snapped my mouth shut. But I still glared at him.
“I trust Anderson here with my money. I trust his opinion on this.” He glanced back at Parker. “Well?”
Parker hesitated, considering his words carefully. “Ryker is a good man, an honest man.”
“That doesn’t answer my question,” Dad replied.
“It’s not up to me to say if he’s the right kind of man for Sage,” Parker said. “That’s up to her.”
Well at least one of the men here had some sense.
Ryker stepped back to the table again but didn’t sit down. Instead, he swung his leather jacket back on. “I hate to do this, but I need to go,” he said. “That was work and I’m needed down at the precinct.”
“Of course we understand,” Mom said graciously. “It’s been lovely meeting you.”
My Dad stood to shake his hand and I pushed back my chair, too.
“We’ll chat again soon, Dean,” he said.
“I’ll walk you out,” I said.
We didn’t speak in the elevator as it had several other people in the car with us, but to me it felt as though the tension between us was thick and heavy.
In the lobby, he turned to me as others moved past us and the space emptied. “Stay inside,” he said. “It’s cold out and you left your coat upstairs.” He turned to go, but I grabbed his sleeve.
“Wait, that’s it? You were barely civil to my parents the entire time you were here, and now you have to leave, and that’s all you’re going to say? ‘It’s cold out’?”
“What do you want me to say?” he asked, his eyes narrowing. “I get here and find Parker sitting at the same damn table, right next to you. What the hell? Then I find out you’ve been lying to me this whole time about who you are.”
“That’s not true! I told you my parents were wealthy and where I came from—”
“You didn’t tell me you’re a Muccino,” he interrupted.
Ryker was angry, but so was I. “I’ve never lied to you about who I am,” I said. “I’m Sage, and it shouldn’t matter one damn bit what my last name is.” I turned on my heel to walk away, but he grabbed my arm and yanked me back until we were nearly touching.
“You think it doesn’t matter that your father runs seventy percent of the liquor business in Chicago?” His voice was incredulous. “Or that your whole extended family has a file ten inches thick down at the station?”
“My father has never done anything illegal,” I hissed.
“That you know about,” he retorted. “Don’t be na?ve, Sage.”
“Na?ve about what?” I spat, furious. “Don’t you dare try to imply that my dad is a criminal.” I tried to pull my arm out of his grip, but his hold was too tight.
“You think I want to disillusion you?” he gritted out. “I’ve just been blindsided by the fact that the woman I’m in love with is the daughter of a mob boss!”
I stared at him, my mouth agape, and I wasn’t sure if I was stunned because of what he’d said about my father or what he’d said about being in love with me.
Ryker growled a curse, then he kissed me.
His lips pressed hard against mine, his palm cradling my jaw as his fingers slid into my hair. He lightly sucked my lower lip, sending a spark of heat through me, and I eagerly opened my mouth. His tongue slid alongside mine and before I realized it, he had me pressed against the wall. My fingers curled into the leather covering his shoulders and my knees felt too weak to hold me.
Ryker’s leg nudged between mine, and the hunger and residual anger in his kiss made me breathless. The hard muscles of his thigh pressed against a very soft, very aroused part of me, and I moaned into his mouth.
When he lifted his head, I was completely turned on and utterly boneless. I was also vaguely considering the idea of finding the nearest empty room and having Ryker finish what he’d started. I didn’t think he’d put up much of an objection, considering the fire in his eyes as he looked at me … or the hard length of his erection against my hip.
“Walk me to my bike?” he asked, his voice all rough and evoking images of him tearing off my clothes. Or of me tearing off his. I was good with either.
“I thought it was too cold.”
His lips twitched at my sass, then he slipped off the leather jacket and swung it over my shoulders. I was enveloped in Ryker’s scent mixed with leather as I pushed my arms into the too-long sleeves. Sliding an arm around my waist, he kept me close to his side as we walked outside.